Fever
by ehmalo01
Summary: When a fever fells the head of the Miami-Dade crime lab, Horatio is forced to deal with more than just the flu. Will the virus get the better of him, or will something else? DuCaine, plain and simple. Set in early Season 4.
1. Caine's Mutiny

Fever

_Never know how much I love you, never know how much I care_

_When you put your arms around me, I get a fever that's so hard to bear_

_You give me fever - when you kiss me, fever when you hold me tight_

_Fever - in the morning, fever all through the night._

**CAINE'S MUTINY**

Even through the thick pane of glass that separated the observation level of the Miami Dade Morgue from where she stood, Alexx Woods heard the cough. It wasn't the sort of cough that accompanied a tickle in the back of someone's throat, nor was it the type occasionally used to draw someone's attention. This was the type of cough that signaled the annual fattening of doctors' wallets, otherwise known as Flu Season.

Alexx wasn't about to let whoever it was get away with spewing fresh germs all over her observation room. Peering over her left shoulder, she saw the silhouetted figure upstairs and instantly knew to whom it belonged. With a sigh and subtle shake of her head she returned her attention to the body lying on the cold metal slab in front of her.

"Horatio Caine, do you recall last month when I was giving out free flu shots and you insisted that you would be fine, that you didn't need one?" Alexx shook her head again and muttered, "I should have stuck you when you weren't looking."

H chuckled quietly, a chuckle that sent him into a new fit of coughs that he desperately tried to muffle by burying his mouth in the crook of his elbow.

"If you really want to hide that cough, Lieutenant, I suggest moving away from the microphone next time." Removing her bloody, gloved hands from the chest cavity of the victim, she turned to face the observation room, prepared to continue scolding him. However, when she realized that not only had the coughing not subsided but that H was nearly doubled over, the frustration she had felt toward him only moments ago faded. "When did this start?"

H had every intention of changing the subject or even fibbing to the chief M.E., but his tongue had other plans. "Since last night." How he hated it when his body mutinied.

He was telling the truth; Alexx could easily hear it when he spoke. The deep rumble of H's voice had sunk to new subterranean depths.

Alexx carefully peeled back her gloves and, as soon as they were discarded, placed her balled fists on her slender hips. She narrowed her eyes, trying to see through the shadows of the observation room. The faint glow from the computer monitor next to him shone just enough light on H's face for Alexx to be able to see just how pale he was. She pointed a long, skinny finger in his direction. "Stay put."

H wasn't about to move, not that he could move fast enough to avoid the M.E. anyway. His body seemed to be in automatic shutdown mode. His back ached, his eyes burned, his chest felt like it was being sawed in half every time he coughed, and his head…H didn't know if words existed that could adequately describe his pain.

With a chilled shudder, he pulled his suit coat tighter around him, leaned his shoulder against the glass window and waited. After a few seconds he heard soft steps approaching the top of the stairs. Alexx had shed her white coat, a subconscious gesture H appreciated. With the coat gone he felt less like he was being scrutinized by a physician and more like he was being treated by a friend.

"That cough sounds like it hurts."

H grunted and shrugged. "I'm fine, Alexx. It's just a cold, I'll be over it in no time."

"Of course you will. Now open up," she said, suddenly beginning to flick her wrist. Unless Alexx had developed a nervous tick, H knew exactly what she was up to.

"I can assure you, there's no need to take my temperature."

One dark eyebrow slid up, the other moved lower, clearly indicating her displeasure. "Do you want me to treat you like a patient or a corpse? If you prefer, I can shove my thermometer into your liver and get your temperature that way. It's your choice."

H opened his mouth to protest, but before his tongue could move to speak, Alexx had slipped the thermometer in his mouth and pressed his tongue flat. H groaned in defeat and slumped his shoulders.

"Horatio, the more you fight me on this, the longer it's going to take. Now be still and keep your mouth shut." Under other circumstances, he might have given a playful salute, but this afternoon he hadn't the energy.

Within a matter of seconds the thermometer was pulled from his tongue. Alexx held it up to the light and scowled. 102.4 She glanced over in his direction, her expression changing to one of genuine concern. "You said you've been coughing since last night?" she asked, stepping closer to get a better look at him. It was then that she noticed just how bad he actually looked.

H nodded gently, afraid that more aggressive nodding would send his headache to unbearable levels.

"It's not often that I tell you what to do, Horatio," she said, earning her a weak but amused expression, "but I'm making an exception in this case. Go home."

"Alexx--" he began before a second, though mercifully brief, fit of coughing wracked his body. Alexx gently placed her hand on his shoulder. Once the coughing had ceased its assault on his lungs, ribs, and throat, H once again held himself upright. "And if I don't go?" he rumbled.

"I'll call Stetler and tell him you disobeyed a direct order from Miami's chief Medical Examiner."

"You wouldn't dare," he teased, knowing he had already lost the battle.

"Would you care to test that theory, Lieutenant?"

Holding his hands up in defeat, he gave her a weak smile. "I'll go." He moved toward the stairs and paused. "Does the good doctor have an _other _orders?"

"Sleep. That's the best thing you can do for yourself. I'll prescribe you something, but I don't want anything to keep you from getting home as soon as possible. I'll have someone drop it off a little bit later. Oh, and one more thing. Don't let me catch you around here, the PD or any crime scenes for at least a week."

"Alexx, I can't be out of the lab for a week."

Alexx slowly crossed her arms and shifted. "Oh, and why not?"

"Just because I take the week off doesn't mean the bad guys will."

"You don't think the team can handle them without you?"

"Of course they can. But…"

"But what?"

"There's more to it than just catching the bad guys. There's a lot of paperwork involved, too."

"So it's Calleigh you're having doubts about."

"No," he paused, "of course not."

"Then what's the problem?"

"It's a _week, _Alexx."

The M.E. nodded her head and crossed her arms. "Hm. Maybe you're right. You've never left her in charge for more than a couple days have you? Perhaps that is a lot of responsibility to ask her to take on at a moment's notice. Who else would you trust to run the lab?"

"There's no one I trust more than Calleigh." Alexx had hardly finished speaking before H had jumped in.

"Does Calleigh know that?" the doctor said with a tilt of her head.

H lowered his head and glanced over at the doctor, but said nothing. He hadn't intended for this to become about Calleigh. There was quiet for several moments as he pondered what Alexx had said. H sighed and lifted his head. "Can we make it five days?"

Alexx responded with a smile and a nod. "Sure." She looked him up and down once, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"What?" H asked cautiously.

"I'm just wondering if I should have someone drive you home," she said, thoughtfully.

"I appreciate your concern, Alexx, but I would like to make a graceful exit and not draw any unnecessary attention."

Alexx smiled sweetly, understanding his thinking. "Fair enough…_if _you think you can get home without putting yourself or anyone else at risk."

"You have my word on it," he replied, his voice showing no sign of hesitation.

"I'll check on you later."

With an appreciative nod, H descended the stairs gingerly, each step sending shockwaves up his body and reassuring him that Alexx had been right.


	2. Chills and Pills

-1**CHILLS AND PILLS**

Calleigh parked her car in front of H's condo and reached for the small white paper Rx bag. Lifting it off the seat she heard the rattle of pills inside. _ He can't complain, I could have brought him dozens of pills instead of just ten_, she thought to herself. Sighing softly she climbed out of her car and made her way up to his front door.

When he didn't answer the door after the third set of knocks, Calleigh began to grow slightly concerned. Her fears were assuaged however when she heard the soft series of clicks indicating that he was unlocking the door.

H pulled the door open slightly and leaned against the edge of it, allowing it to support much of his body weight in an attempt to hide just how weak he felt.

The sweet smile on Calleigh's face faded as soon as her eyes fell upon him. Thankfully she caught herself before the words, "You look like hell," could escape her lips. It was as if every hair on his head had decided to go the oppositedirection from which it was intended to go. His eyes were red and puffy and accentuated by dark circles underneath, his nose was a few shades pinker than normal (she assumed from continuous Kleenex use), and his skin was even paler (if that was even possible).

The dark gray college sweatshirt he was wearing had certainly seen better days, and the black drawstring pants were a few inches too long, bunching up on the floor around his bare feet.

H felt like fainting, though he was fairly certain that his dizziness had nothing to do with the flu and everything to do with the petite, southern blonde standing outside his door. It had been only a few months since his mind had finally succumbed to the notion that he was inexplicably and undeniably in love with his ballistics expert. Simply being in her presence could make him weak-kneed, but this dizzy spell was triggered by sheer embarrassment. If he was trying to make an impression on her, this was certainly one hell of a way to do it. Pity it was the opposite impression he had hoped to make.

"Hi," she said, finally breaking the silence. "Alexx sent me to deliver these." She held up the white bag in his direction. H moved slowly to take the bag from her, trying to maintain a sense of dignity while keeping his weight on the door, but ended up looking more like an uncoordinated rhinoceros than a human being.

"You know what," Calleigh said, noticing how much he was struggling, "why don't I help you with these." She lowered the bag to her side and smiled at the bemused look on his face. "Mind if I come in?"

"Uh…I um…well, I…" Why had his brain chosen this moment to quit functioning?

With a soft chuckle Calleigh stepped through the doorway and past a teetering H. Shooting her hand out, she caught his shoulder and steadied him. "Whoa there, handsome. Maybe you should sit down."

Alexx had told her very little about the illness that had her boss in its grip. She had simply filled out a prescription and asked her to drop it off at H's place, since she lived on his side of town. Nothing Alexx had said could have prepared her for how sick he really was.

Calleigh laced her arm through his and led him over to the couch. Even through the thick cotton of his sweatshirt she could feel the heat of his body temp.

"I appreciate what you're trying to do, ma'am, but I don't want to get you sick."

Calleigh tilted her head to one side and looked at him curiously, a small smile on her lips. "I'm sorry, what did you just call me?"

"Uhm…ma'am, I think?" In the few hours that Horatio had been home from the lab, what had earlier been a headache and a sore throat had escalated and was now a headache, sore throat, dizziness and sinus congestion. He hadn't realized until just now that his stopped-up nose was preventing him from pronouncing certain words properly, among them, "ma'am", which, to Calleigh's ears, sounded like "ba'ab".

"Ba'ab? Ba'ab, ba'ab," She sounded out the word quietly to herself. "Oh! You mean ma'am! Horatio Caine, how long have we known each other?"

What he wanted to say was, "Three years, seven months, thirteen days and eleven minutes." Too bad it came out as, "Well, I…it was…when…could it…I'm not really…"

"That was a hypothetical question," she grinned. "What I'm trying to say is, I think we've known each other long enough to dispense with the formalities. So, no more ma'am. Or ba'ab," she grinned. "Just call me Cal."

Lowering him onto the sofa she pulled the quilt from the back of the couch, draped it around his shoulders and pulled it tight. "And as far as me getting sick, I didn't see a 'Quarantine' sign on the front door, and besides, unlike someone else I know, I actually got my flu shot." Before he could retort, she continued. "Stay put, I'm going to get you something to take those pills with."

H sighed and shivered as a chill crawled down his spine. Everything ached, down to his eyelashes. He could hear her rustling around in the kitchen, opening and shutting cabinets, apparently searching for something. Eventually she must have found what she was looking for, because the noises stopped. The back of the couch seemed to be calling his name, like some seductress trying to draw him in. Giving into the temptation, he leaned his head back on the soft cushion and shut his eyes.

When Calleigh walked back into the living room she paused, giving her heart a chance to make up for the beat it had just skipped. Seeing him like that, wrapped tightly in a quilt, hair a mess, curled up on the couch asleep reminded her of a small boy. She had always had a soft spot in her heart for him, but this was almost too much.

She carried a glass of water in one hand and a steaming cup of tea in the other. She hated to wake him, but he needed to take his medicine. He would have to wake up anyway to move to bed. There was no way in hell she was going to let him spend the night on the couch.

Calleigh set the hot tea on a coaster on the end table beside the couch and retrieved the bottle of pills. Shaking one tablet into her palm, she knelt down beside his feet and rested a hand on his knee. "Horatio," she said quietly, not wanting to startle him. "Hey, I need you to take this, okay?"

With a deep groan he struggled to open his eyes. His eyelids felt like lead weights, but he finally managed to force them open. "What poisons are you administering to me, good lady?" he asked with a weak grin.

The melodic laughter that greeted his ears caused his smile to widen and sent a tingle dancing down his spine. "You won't know until it's too late," she grinned.

Though it took more effort than he could have possibly anticipated, H raised a suspicious, albeit playful eyebrow at the blonde. "Well if I wind up in Alexx's morgue tomorrow," he chuckled in response, "at least I can take comfort in the fact that the suspect list will be incredibly short." He was punished for his laughter with a particularly vicious cough that seemed hell-bent on cracking an already-aching rib. H squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the fresh throb of pain in his head to subside, or at least dull.

Calleigh winced and looked away; she hated seeing him so miserable and would have gladly taken his illness onto herself if it meant that he didn't have to endure it. If nothing else, she would have happily taken half. The sound of his voice drew her eyes back to his.

"Seriously, though, what _did _Alexx prescribe?"

Cal reached for the bottle sitting on the table and turned it label up. "Um, it looks like…Oseltamivir. And before you start complaining, you only have to take two a day for five days."

"You'll get no complaints from me, ma'am." Fumbling a bit, he lifted the pill from her hand and put it to his lips. Calleigh handed him the glass of water and watched him closely.

The cool water felt good on the back of his raw throat. It felt as though every cough ripped off a fresh layer of his esophagus. After finishing off the glass, he sighed and returned it to her. "Thank-you," he growled unintentionally. He wasn't sure if he was capable of making non-growling sounds at this point.

"Think you can stand?" she asked, caressing his knee.

"Think I can stand what?"

Calleigh shook her head. Poor thing. "Do you think you can stand up?"

He nodded weakly and leaned up from the back of the couch. He made a motion as if to stand, but his body went nowhere. Again he tried, but still his body resisted. "Okay, maybe I lied. Would you mind giving me a hand?"

Calleigh moved around beside him and wrapped her arm around his waist. "On three, okay?" She counted up and lifted him, quilt-draped shoulders and all, to his feet. He wobbled once he was upright and most likely would have fallen, had she not had such a tight hold on him. "You'll have to point the way. I don't know where your bedroom is."

"Down the hall, second door on the left."

Calleigh nodded and encouraged him forward with a slight increase in the pressure from the arm around his back. Not wanting to forget the hot tea, she paused as they passed by the end table and reached for the mug. _Maybe not such a good idea, Cal. If he stumbles…_ She quickly made the decision to get him safely to bed and then return for the tea.


	3. Nurse Ratched

-1**NURSE RATCHED**

When the pair reached his bedroom door, Calleigh nudged it open with her elbow. H's pale cheeks flushed, showing color for the first time that day. He hadn't planned on anyone seeing his bedroom, especially Calleigh. While, by a normal human being's standards, the room was tidy, by H's standards it was far from it.

His CSI mind immediately noticed every out-of-place item: the suit he had changed out of but had neglected to hang back in the closet, the pair of socks he'd pulled from the top drawer of his dresser with every intention of slipping into when he'd been distracted by the door bell, and lastly, the unmade bed. Of course the one day he didn'tmake his bed would be the one day Calleigh ended up in his bedroom. While he had occasionally entertained the thought of being in his bedroom with Calleigh and a set of tangled sheets, it was under entirely different circumstances.

What made this situation worse for him was the fact that he wasn't the only CSI in the room. He had no doubt that she had noticed every flaw in his room, and probably even found some that he had missed.

He was right, or at least half way right. Calleigh did notice the suit, the socks and the bed, but what he didn't know was that she found it comforting that he was only perfect at work. He was human after all.

H paused in mid-step, reaching a hand up to scratch the back of his head. "Um…I'm going to need to take a brief detour to the, um, bathroom."

Calleigh relaxed her grip around his back just slightly. "You think you can make it?"

H gave her a quizzical but amused look. "Well, I've been able to 'make it' for the past forty-five years, so I think I'll be alright. Though," he added, "I appreciate your concern."

"That not what--you know I didn't--" Calleigh felt the blood rush to her cheeks. It was then she saw the faint playful glint in his eye. "Horatio Caine, you'd better be glad you're sick. If you were healthy I just might slap you."

"In that case I'm quite glad I'm sick," he said, handing her the quilt that had been around his shoulders before shuffling off toward the bathroom.

Calleigh took the opportunity to get his bed ready for him. She arranged his pillows, smoothed out his sheets and positioned the quilt on top of the comforter just right, so that when the covers were pulled up he would be encased in several layers of warmth.

Moments later the bathroom door opened and H wearily reentered the bedroom, making his way over to where she stood. "You don't have to do all this, Cal. I'm fairly certain that 'nursing your Lieutenant back to health' wasn't in the job description when I hired you on."

"Who says I'm doing this for my LT? Now sit." She gave his shoulder a gentle push, guiding him down onto his bed before reaching for the pair of socks he'd neglected earlier. "Put these on."

H's brow creased and his brain meagerly tried to make sense of what she'd said as he slipped his cold feet inside the warm socks. "Okay," he said slowly, "then if you're not doing this for your Lieutenant, why _are _you doing it?"

She gave him one of her thousand-watt smiles. "Get cozy, I'll be back with your tea."

As soon as she was out of sight H sank back into the bed and pulled the covers up over him just as another chill caused his body to shudder. He desperately wanted to understand the exchange he'd just had with Calleigh, but his brain was currently operating at a fraction of its normal speed.

Calleigh returned second later and, to her surprise, he had the blankets pulled up to his chest, though he was still in a half-seated position. "Drink this." She handed him the tea and sat on the edge of the bed beside him.

H took a sip and instantly grimaced. The taste was horrible. "You _are _trying to kill me, aren't you, Cal? Or…should I call you Nurse Ratched?"

"Very funny." She folded her arms across her chest. "I thought you said no complaining."

"I was talking about the pills. I don't recall being forced to drink motor oil being a part of the agreement."

Calleigh let out a heavy sigh, but this time the playfulness was noticeably absent. "I know it doesn't taste very good, but I'm just trying to help you. It's got herbs in it that'll help you sleep."

H paused, the mug at his lips, then lowered it slowly and reached for Calleigh's knee with his free hand. "I'm sorry, Cal," he shook his head slowly. "You're being wonderful to me and all I can do is complain. Thank-you," he said with all the sincerity he could muster. He moved his hand toward hers but pulled it away before making contact. He didn't want to spread germs any more than necessary. At least that was the reason he gave himself. In actuality, his hesitation was much more due to the fact that even though he had come to accept his feelings for her, he sincerely doubted that Calleigh had ever considered him as anything more than a colleague and friend.

Seeing his hesitation, Calleigh countered and took hold of his retreating hand, giving it a light squeeze. "You're welcome." Her action sent his mind spinning, but before he could give it much thought, a twinkle in her eye distracted him. "But don't think that just because you're being sweet now that you're going to get out of drinking that tea."

He muttered something under his breath, something she couldn't quite make out. Something that sounded remarkably like a word she had never expected to hear H utter. He choked down the rest of the tea and set the mug on his nightstand.

Calleigh was watching him closely, a fact that was not lost on him. He wished he could have enjoyed it more, but he was just too sleepy; his eyelids were determined to close whether he liked it or not. "Hey," she said, gently stroking his arm, "why don't we get you tucked in." H nodded, and Calleigh lifted the covers a little, enabling him to shift further down beneath the layers of sheets and blankets.

Calleigh looked around and cursed under her breath. H, sensing something was wrong, forced his eyes open; Calleigh's well-being came before his, no matter how miserable he felt. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing. I just left something in my purse. I'll be right back," she whispered and quietly exited the room.

Sleep overtook him quickly and heavily, but all it took to wake him was a soft hand on his cheek. "Hey, I need to take your temperature before you completely fade on me."

Too sleepy to respond H merely opened his mouth, ready for the thermometer. Calleigh chuckled and put a finger under his chin, gently shutting his mouth. "It's not that kind of thermometer." H's mind flashed back to his childhood years. The only places his mother had ever stuck a thermometer were in his mouth and his--_Oh god, she wouldn't dare_…

He tensed quickly, but before he could say anything, he felt something lightly pressing against his ear, followed by a soft _click. _He let out a silent sigh of relief. A second later Calleigh pulled the ear thermometer away and studied the display._ 103.0, _not quite the result she was hoping for. Had H's eyes been open, he would have seen something flicker across her face. Fear. But it disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. Since he couldn't be strong for her, she would have to be strong for him.

Another cold chill shook his body as she tucked the blankets even tighter around him. Calleigh popped open the lid of the Tylenol bottle she'd retrieved on her last retreat to the living room. Hopefully it would help lower his fever. Somehow she sweetly managed to coax him into taking a couple more pills.

H was fading fast and barely able to muster the sentence, "Would you think I was rude if I tried to get some sleep?"

Calleigh studied his face, trying to figure out what to do. His fever was high enough to alarm her, but not high enough to need to take him to the hospital. She made the decision to call Alexx and get her expert advice.

"Of course not." She gave him one last sweet smile. "Sleep well." She switched off the lamp beside the bed, leaving the room in complete darkness, save for the light sneaking in through the open door.


	4. Who Will Guard the Guardian?

-1**WHO WILL GUARD THE GUARDIAN?**

After a phone call to Alexx confirmed her suspicions that H shouldn't be left alone for long with a fever that high, Calleigh decided to run home and grab a few things so she could stay overnight on his couch. On her way back, she made a brief detour at a grocery just a few blocks from his house. Before she'd left to head home, she'd peeked in his fridge and noticed just how poor the selection of food actually was. If he was going to succeed at getting well, it would be essential to have the right foods at hand.

Now in more comfortable clothes, a t-shirt and shorts, Calleigh made herself at home. It wasn't yet late, just past 9pm, but she hadn't eaten dinner, as her stomach was furiously reminding her. After poking her head into H's bedroom to make sure he was alright and still sleeping, she pulled out the plastic container of the salad she'd purchased, settled into the couch and flipped on the TV.

One of the few forensic procedurals she actually approved of was on, a show set in Vegas of all places, and she managed to catch the last half of the episode. There were a couple times she let out a loud burst of laughter and had to cover her mouth, as to not wake H, but she couldn't help herself. The forensic technology on the program was unrealistically quick. CODIS, AFIS and, her personal favorite, IBIS results within seconds? _If only, _she thought with a sigh and a smile.

As the program came to a close, so did her desire to watch television. She glanced around the room until her eyes settled on a few items on the wall-length bookshelves. Uncrossing her legs gracefully, she rose from the couch and moved across the room. Whereas most people would fill such shelves almost exclusively with books, H only used half for that purpose. The other half was filled with row upon row of CDs and LPs.

For the next hour or two she quietly moved from back and forth between the shelves and the CD player, introducing herself to the type of music H liked. What she heard confirmed what she had long suspected. Horatio Caine loved jazz, and good jazz at that. Calleigh knew very little about the genre, but the more she heard, the more she understood why he was so fond of it. If there was ever a style of music that could help him relax after an especially difficult day at work, this was it.

Throwing a glance over her shoulder in the direction of the hallway, she smiled. She knew there was more to the man than she could ever imagine, but she felt as if one more layer had just been peeled away, moving her one step closer to what hid beneath. Maybe something good was coming out of this illness after all. The only problem was, the more she learned, the harder she fell.

Calleigh sighed heavily and shook her head. It hadn't been easy to keep her feelings for Horatio a secret. On so many occasions she'd wanted to shout it to the world, but for some strange reason she got the impression that shouting "I love Horatio Caine!" at the top of her lungs wouldn't go over too well at the lab. She had told no one that she was in love, though she suspected Alexx knew and just kept her mouth shut. She also suspected that it was exactly why Alexx had chosen _her _to be the one to drop off H's meds. _Sneaky woman. _

Eventually pulling herself from her thoughts, she tiptoed down the hall to check on the object of her daydreams. As she eased the bedroom door open, the light from the hallway spilled into the bedroom. Thankfully, it wasn't enough to wake him.

As silently as she could she leaned over him and placed her cool hand on his cheek. It was still warm, but not as blazing hot as it had been when she'd taken his temperature a few hours before. It seemed that the Tylenol had had an effect.

Though it was dark she could still make out the deep lines that the tireless pursuit of justice had etched into his handsome face, giving it an even more rugged appearance. Not wanting to leave him just yet, she curled up on the floor, her side leaned against the bed, her knees pulled to her chest, her head resting on the edge of the mattress.

It was some time before she forced herself to retreat to the couch in the living room. In truth she would have preferred to stay with him, but she did have to work in the morning, and sleeping in that position on the floor would do nothing to help ready her body for the long day ahead.

----------------

There was one good thing about H's incredibly stopped-up nose. The smell of fresh fruit being sliced in the kitchen didn't pull him from his deep sleep. Calleigh wanted him to sleep as long as possible until it was absolutely necessary to wake him.

Sadly, absolutely necessary came sooner than Calleigh would have liked. Since he wasn't going to be around to run the show at the lab, that meant she was in charge, and being in charge meant that she needed to be there extra early.

She gracefully carried the tray of fruit, fruit juice, toast and, yes, pills into his room. At first glance he seemed to be sleeping peacefully, but on closer examination, Calleigh could see the deep crease between his brows. She knew he had slept, but she wondered if much of that sleep had actually been restful.

Carefully she balanced the tray on the edge of the nightstand and knelt beside the bed. "Wake up, sleepy head," she softly said, barely holding back a smile. Had the voice belonged to anyone else, it's doubtful that H would have responded. However, it didn't belong to anyone else. It belonged to Calleigh.

It took a moment for the sound of her voice to register with his brain, but once it did, his first reaction was to smile. His eyes drifted open, and while his mind and vision were still relatively foggy, he was able to put a coherent sentence together. "I thought you would've gone by now," he whispered.

Calleigh smiled back. "I've already gone and come back. I wanted to check on you before I left for work." She skipped over the fact that she had spent the night there, not wanting him to worry. "How are you feeling?"

H let out a groan as he rolled from his side to his back. He quickly regretted the move. The shift in position jostled around the unwanted contents of his lungs, setting off a coughing fit of epic proportions. One particularly vicious cough bolted him up into a sitting position.

Calleigh felt completely helpless to do anything. With pursed lips and sympathetic eyes, she watched him as he struggled to overcome the coughing. When the fit subsided H closed his eyes, took a few cautious, deep breaths and swallowed once, his raw throat screaming for mercy.

"I'm feeling…marvelous," he rasped, finally opening his eyes. He wished he had the nerve to tell her that her mere presence made him feel a thousand times better than he would have felt had she not been there. "What time is it?" he asked, quickly wanting to get the topic of conversation away from himself.

"A quarter past six." Calleigh recognized the change in subject for what it was and went with it. Grabbing the flattened pillows from behind him, she plumped them and propped them up so he had something soft to rest upon. "I can't stick around, but I brought you breakfast." Seeing the look of trepidation on his face, she continued, "Don't worry. It's just fruit and toast. And, maybe a pill or two."

"I'm surprised you didn't try to hide the pill inmy breakfast."

"Hmm, I would if I'd thought about it." Reaching for the tray, she moved it over to his lap. "I know you don't feel like eating, but you really should. Besides, I slaved a long time over the stove making you breakfast," she teased.

H glanced down at the tray in front of him and raised an eyebrow. "I don't know what stove you're talking about, but if it can slice fruit then I'd like to see it." His tired blues locked with her bright greens and they smiled at each other for a moment. "Thank-you for this."

Before leaving, Calleigh checked his temperature once more, relieved to see that his fever was a good three degrees lower than it had been the night before. Nevertheless, it was still a fever, and since it was morning, that meant that it was only going to get higher throughout the day.

Giving him last minute instructions, she left his cell phone on the nightstand, with specific orders to make absolutely no work-related phone calls. Her last word to him was, "Sleep," and with that, she left, and, unbeknownst to him, took his keys with her to keep him from leaving and to give her a way back into the house after work.


	5. Scent of a Woman

-1**SCENT OF A WOMAN**

H had no trouble following Calleigh's instructions. The fruit, at least what he could taste, wasn't bad, though the orange juice burned the back of his throat. The toast was a bit bland, but he assumed that she'd intentionally prepared it that way for him. He laid back down and as his weary body began to process to the small meal he'd just eaten, he gave in once again to sleep.

A strange chirping noise woke him, and as he moved to lift his head he quickly discovered that the wretched headache from the day before had returned with a vengeance. With a groan he let his head fall back down. The left side of his face was smashed into the soft pillow, and not having the energy or even the desire to lift his head from it, he was forced to use only his right eye to search for source of the sound.

It took him a moment to realize that the noise was coming from his cell phone. The ring sounded strange to his ears, possibly because he usually kept his phone set on vibrate. Calleigh must have changed it. Flinging a tired arm in the direction of the nightstand, he grabbed the phone and pulled it to him.

Mimicking a trombone player, he held the phone in front of him at varying distances, trying to make sense of the ID on the display screen. When it dawned on him that his eyes weren't going to focus at any distance, he surrendered and flipped open the phone. "Hello?"

"Did I wake you up?" Calleigh's cheerful voice chirped through the speaker.

"Yeah, but it's--" Apparently Calleigh was uninterested in the rest of his response, for she cut him off.

"Good."

The crease between his eyebrows deepened as he tried to comprehend the seemingly irrational statement she'd just made. Needless to say, it wasn't the answer he had been expecting. "Good? How on earth could the fact that you just woke me up possibly be a good thing?"

"Because," she smiled, "it means you actually were sleeping."

"Tell me something, Cal, what's the point in calling and waking a man up just to make sure he was sleeping? Isn't that counterproductive?"

"Well, it's nice to know that despite your fever and somewhat grouchy disposition you're still able to think logically." He could hear the rapid clicking of her heels on the pavement; she was in a hurry to get somewhere.

"You're not going to answer my question, are you?"

"No," she grinned. "Now, the reason I called was to tell you that there's chicken noodle soup in the fridge. I already portioned it out for you, so you won't have to do it yourself. It's in a bowl, covered in plastic wrap. All you need to do is microwave it for two and a half minutes. There are crackers in the cabinet beside the fridge. Promise me you'll eat something, even if it's just a little bit."

H grunted sleepily in agreement.

"Horatio, are you listening to me?" Calleigh slipped the phone between her shoulder and left ear as she climbed into the Hummer.

"Maybe." A faint grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"How are you feeling?"

"Tired."

"Any pain?"

"Not if I lie still." Over the phone he suddenly heard the Hummer's siren wail to life. The fog instantly lifted, as did his head from the pillow. "Did you get a call out?"

"I don't want you to worry about it, go back to sleep."

"Cal--"

"Horatio," her tone was serious, "I will tell you about it when I get back later, okay? Now please sleep."

H knew better than to argue with her when she was in that kind of a mood. In all the years he'd known her, he'd never once won. "Promise?"

"I promise. I'll even let you interrogate me." She didn't wait for a response to that one. "I'll see you tonight." With that she ended the call.

------------

It stunk. Whatever the smell was that catapulted H out of his much-needed sleep, it stunk. He cursed his medication for successfully decongesting his nose; he would have much preferred to be unable to smell at that moment. With uncharacteristic irritability, he grunted, raised his head from the pillow, and scanned the room, his eyes in search of the foul-smelling nuisance. Instinctively, he put his hand to his nose in a feeble attempt to protect it from the onslaught of odors.

His weary eyes fell on the white bowl which had, earlier in the day, been full to the brim with chicken noodle soup. Only a few spoonfuls remained in the bowl, but considering the amount of time that it had been sitting there, it was entirely possible that the stench was emanating from it. He steeled himself and slowly rolled onto his side, inching his nostrils closer to the suspect.

Oddly enough, it still smelled like soup. H scrunched up his nose and sniffed the air once more. A rather unpleasant and potentially embarrassing thought crossed his mind. What if the smell was coming from him? The last time he had showered was the morning before, making it at least 36 hours. He also hadn't changed out of the clothes he'd slept in.

Grabbing the collar of his sweatshirt, he tugged it toward his nose, simultaneously smelling the clothing and himself. While the scent didn't necessarily remind him of freshly picked roses, it also wasn't repulsive enough to be the culprit.

Then, much to his horror, the stench began growing stronger. _How the hell…? _

--------------------------

With a thump, Calleigh's bag landed on the hardwood floor beside the coffee table in the living room. Work had been a drag. Literally. She had spent most of the afternoon working a crime scene at Tink's, a drag queen nightclub in a seedier area of the city. The victim, cleverly named Barbra Seville (real name Tony Dillingham), the business's most popular drag queen, had been butchered by an ex-lover. It hadn't been a difficult case to solve, but it had been messy. According to Alexx, Tony had been stabbed 44 times with a pair of barber scissors. Based on the amount of blood in the crime scene, it was no surprise.

Calleigh rubbed her aching neck with tired fingers; she was quite glad to be done for the day. As exhaustion threatened to overtake her, she regretfully eyed the soft cushions of the sofa that seemed to beckon to her. How she wished she could sit, if only for five minutes. But she knew better. Five minutes would turn into fifteen, fifteen into an hour, and the next thing she would know, it would be morning. No, first things first. She needed to check on H.

When she pushed open his bedroom door, a somewhat bizarre sight greeted her. H was propped up on an elbow, the lower half of his face tucked beneath the collar of his sweatshirt, a look of disgust in his eyes. "You okay?" she asked, unsure of whether or not she should be concerned.

H nodded. "I'm fine," he responded, sounding particularly congested as his nose and mouth emerged from under the shirt. He forced himself to breathe through his mouth.

He'd finally and correctly identified the source of the stench: Calleigh. The smell of decomposing flesh clung to her clothes like tics to a dog's ear.

Not wanting to be rude, he hid his discomfort and offered her a tired smile as he allowed his head to sink back into the pillow. His chivalry was rewarded with a mega-watt smile in return. "I see you gave my soup a try." Calleigh nodded toward the nearly-empty bowl and sat on the edge of the bed. "How was it?"

"Better than your tea."

"Coming from you, I don't think that's saying much."

H grinned at her. "Well, I ate it, didn't I?"

She reached forward and laid the back of her cool hand on his forehead. He was warm, but not too terribly hot. "How are you feeling? Have you been coughing much?"

"I haven't had time to. I've been too busy sleeping."

She chuckled at his response, glad to see that his playful mood was moderately in tact. After asking a few more questions and feeling satisfied that he was taken care of, it was time to take care of herself. Jabbing her thumb over her right shoulder and toward the hallway she asked, "Would you mind if I took a quick shower?"

Appreciating the odor-eliminating potential a shower held, H shook his head enthusiastically, perhaps _too _enthusiastically. The vigorous motion revived the headache which had been mercifully absent up to that point. He winced, squeezed his eyes shut and waved his hand toward the door, attempting to indicate his agreement.

"I won't be long." Calleigh closed the door quietly behind her, leaving H alone and miserable.


	6. Long Night's Journey into Day

-1**LONG NIGHT'S JOURNEY INTO DAY**

Calleigh yawned, stretching her arms over her head. Reopening the book in her lap, she discovered that her eyes no longer wished to focus on the small print on the pages. She took it as her body's cue for bedtime, but decided to check on H one last time before giving into sleep. Though his fever seemed to have gone down during the day, she had a feeling it was on its way back up.

H was lying on his right side, his back facing the door, the blankets pulled tightly around him. "Horatio?" Calleigh whispered, not wanting to wake him if he was sleeping. When he didn't respond, she tiptoed to the bedside and peeked over his shoulder. The lamp on the nightstand was still on, and the light from it cast strange shadows on his face and illuminated the beads of sweat that had pooled on his forehead. His eyes were open, but focused on nothing. The crease between Calleigh's eyebrows deepened as she watched a cold chill send a shudder through his body. "Horatio?" She lowered herself down onto the bed behind him. Even from several inches away she could feel the heat radiating from him.

She turned sideways and shifted closer to him, reaching over him with her left arm to brace herself on the bed. Her free hand made its way to his cheek; he was burning up. She snatched the thermometer from the table and put it to his ear. When it beeped softly, letting her know it was finished reading his temperature, she turned the device to see the result. Her heart nearly skipped a beat. _ 104.2. _More than five degrees above normal. She set down the thermometer and brushed back the sweat-soaked hair above his ear as she tried to decide what to do.

Calleigh leaned down until her lips were nearly touching his ear and as she spoke, she continued to run her fingers through his hair, trying to soothe him, even if just a little. "I'll be right back," she whispered, knowing that anything above a whisper would most likely worsen his discomfort.

H felt her pull away from him and allowed his eyes to close. Moments later he heard the faucet running in the kitchen and the soft squeak of the hinges on the bedroom door as Calleigh shut it behind her. The bed shifted as she reclaimed her spot behind him and after a second he felt something cool and damp being pressed to his cheek. "Can you roll onto your back?" he heard her whisper. It took him a moment to process her quiet request, but nodded slightly and did as she asked.

His eyes ached and burned too much for him to consider opening them. A sound escaped his throat, a sound somewhere between a sigh and a groan, as Calleigh moved the damp cloth lightly over his hot skin, wiping away the sweat as she tried to cool him off. Every couple of minutes she would dip the cloth back into a bowl of water she had brought into the room and place it back on his forehead.

H tried to open his eyes but by this point even his eyelids ached. Stubborn man that he was, however, he forced them open long enough to recognize the expression on her face as one of deep concern. He wanted to say something to her, but in his half-lucid state he struggled to make any coherent sentences. After several tries, he was able to manage something simple. "You don't have to do this."

"Just be quiet and drink." She held a glass of water to his lips and put her hand behind his head to help him lean up enough to be able to drink. H tried to swallow too much, and at the angle at which he was lying his throat muscles didn't function properly, causing him to choke. H coughed hard, spraying water everywhere. As soon as he was able to get a breath, he dropped his head back to the pillow. If it was possible for him to feel worse than before, he did. Misery didn't even come close to describing it.

Cal felt absolutely helpless to do anything to ease his pain and lower his temperature. Frustrated with herself and fighting a rising sense of panic, she snatched the phone from the nightstand without paying attention to whose phone it was.

She began pressing buttons as quickly as she could. In her desperation she pressed the wrong numbers several times and had to keep starting over, which only frustrated her more. Once the number was successfully entered and the line was ringing, she cradled the phone between her ear and shoulder to free her hands.

"Horatio, can you sit up? Just for a second?" She again placed one hand behind his head to make up for the strength that the fever had stolen from him. As soon as he was leaning up just enough, she stuck two other pillows behind him to allow him to sit up a bit more easily. "Okay, you can lean back." H dropped back into the pile of pillows with a deep groan.

Calleigh heard a click on the other end of the line. Before the person even had a chance to identify themselves, Cal was speaking. "Alexx? Alexx?"

A groggy male voice responded. "No, this is Henry."

"Henry, it's Calleigh. Please tell me Alexx is with you."

"Well, since it's one-thirty in the morning, I'd certainly hope she's with me. If not, I need to find out who's lying in bed beside me."

Had it been any other time, Calleigh would have gotten a bit of a laugh out Henry's joke, but in that moment she had a one-track mind. "Henry, it's an emergency. I really need to speak to her."

Calleigh heard a rustling on the other side, and, only seconds, later, Alexx's voice. "Calleigh, baby, what is it? Is it Horatio?"

Calleigh stared down at H, his eyes closed, his face wearing an expression of pain, sweat once again beading on his forehead. "Yeah," she whispered in an attempt to hide the fact that she was fighting back tears. "And I don't know what to do, Alexx." She put her hand to his cheek, frightened by the intense heat radiating from it, and stroked it with her thumb, trying to soothe his pain and her nerves.

"Okay, baby," Alexx said with that comforting tone she had mastered, "tell me exactly what's happening."

It didn't take long for Cal to relay the details of H's condition. Alexx asked a few questions just to make certain that she knew everything possible.

"Okay," Alexx said slowly, "here's what I want you to do."

------------------

Alexx's instructions had done the trick; H was resting more comfortably, allowing Calleigh to relax somewhat. Still, she wasn't about to leave his side. At last check his fever had fallen a bit but he wasn't out of the woods just yet.

Calleigh glanced at the empty pitcher of water on the bedside table. Alexx had insisted that he drink the entire thing and somehow he had managed to do just that.

During the time that she had been on the phone with Alexx, Calleigh had switched to the other side of the bed and was now half lying, half sitting beside H. There was more space on that side and it made it easier for her to reach him. Once again she put the damp cloth to his burning forehead and cheeks. "Are you sleepy?" she half-whispered.

A very faint grin appeared. "Was OJ guilty?"

Calleigh raised a bemused eyebrow and matched his grin. The cloth was no longer cool and therefore no longer useful. She set it down and repositioned herself, tucking her elbow beneath her head. "Alexx said the most important thing," she paused to yawn, "for you to do right now is sleep."

"I don't think that's going to be a problem. For either of us." His smile strengthened ever so slightly. "Thank-you, Cal." As exhausted as he was, he forced his eyes open and made eye contact with her.

Even though sick and tired, his gaze was intense enough so to make her cheeks flush. "Get some sleep, okay?"

H nodded wearily and shifted onto his side. "Only if you promise to do the same."

Calleigh reached behind her and turned off the lamp, allowing darkness to overtake the room.

There was just enough moonlight peeking through the blinds for her to see the deep lines etched into his face. It made her heart ache to see him like this, to see such a strong man felled by a virus.

Another yawn forced its way out and reminded her of just how tired she actually was. She allowed her eyes to close, promising herself it would only be for a minute or two.

---------------

Sometime later, though how much later she didn't know, her eyes snapped open. Something had stirred her subconscious enough to wake her. She glanced over at the clock; nearly two hours had passed.

"Cal…" H's voice startled her. She hadn't even noticed that his eyes were open.

"What is it?" she asked, pushing herself up onto her elbow.

"I may not have been truthful earlier, when I said I could sleep."

"You can't?"

H shook his head. "Hm-m."

"Any particular reason? Is something on your mind?" She watched as he briefly glanced away. Calleigh smiled. "It's not easy for you to be away from the lab, is it?"

"Is it that obvious?"

She chuckled quietly. "Not obvious, but also not surprising. The science is who you are. It's part of what I--" She caught herself halfway through the self-incriminating pronoun, "of what _we _love so much about you."

Her slip of tongue, if that was in fact what it had been, was not lost on H. Always the gentleman, however, he let it pass without acknowledging it. Reacting would only cause embarrassment.

"It's much appreciated, ma'am."

"But if you want to sleep, you need to get your mind off work."

"But I…I'm not sure I can."

She stroked his cheek with the back of her hand. "Just close your eyes, okay?" She didn't even need to ask. At the touch of her hand, his eyelids fell. She doubled her pillow over and propped her head upon it. Once she was comfortable she began speaking about the first thing she could think of. The first non-work-related thing.

"The Sand Sculptures Festival is this weekend. On my way home--" she caught herself again in the midst of a Freudian slip, "I mean _here_…I took a short detour down by Bayfront. You wouldn't believe some of the things they've created this year…"

Her eyes remain fixed on him the entire time she spoke; only blinking could take her eyes from his face. Every so often she would go quiet, listening to see if his breathing had slowed. Her fingers traced patterns through his hair; she could not have cared less how dirty or sweaty it was. He was reacting to her touch, consciously or subconsciously. She didn't care which, just as long as he was relaxing.

Eventually she heard the change in his breathing that she had been waiting for. Once certain that he had, in fact, fallen asleep, she allowed herself to do the same. It didn't take longer than thirty seconds.

------------

H's eyebrows twitched a few times before his eyelids slid open. His eyes were opposed to the idea of focusing, but he could still make out some of the blurry shapes. One in particular caught his attention. Less than a foot away was one of the most welcome sights he could imagine, blurry or not. Calleigh was sleeping soundly beside him; an early-morning beam of light had sliced its way through the blinds and landed on her golden hair, causing it to glow and giving her the appearance of an angel. He briefly wondered if he was still dreaming, but before his brain could fully process the thought he was once again fast asleep.


	7. Father Knows Best

-1**FATHER KNOWS BEST**

Eggs. Toast. Grits. Bacon. Every Saturday morning had begun like that for as long as she could remember. Calleigh smiled to herself as she scooped two large spoonfuls of grits onto her plate. Even at a young age her mother had insisted she eat and enjoy grits. "Every true Southern woman should," she would say. It had taken some getting used to, but now Calleigh couldn't imagine a Saturday breakfast without it.

Since moving to Miami, she'd added an Orange to the meal. It would have been sacrilege to live in Florida and not have one. She plucked the best one from the basket in the corner of the counter and carried it, her plate and coffee to the table in front of the large glass windows along the back of the apartment.

The plate _clanked _softly as it touched the wood surface of the breakfast table. Her stomach growled impatiently, reminding her that she hadn't eaten since lunch the day before.

No one had ever questioned her appetite. She could out-eat almost anyone, with the possible exception of Ryan. How he managed to eat so much and stay so thin, she would never know. He never worked out. If he had been the sort to jog, swim or even bike, she might have understood, but, as Ryan loved to point out, he was just lucky. "It's the Wolfe genes," he would say. "Good looks, high metabolism and an even higher IQ."

She shook her head and smiled, turning her attention back to her food. The combination of aromas made her taste buds perk up, causing her mouth to water. It was one hell of a breakfast. She only wished H was there to enjoy it with her.

Calleigh ate in silence, allowing her mind to wander. When she had left H only an hour before he was still sleeping. She hoped he could stay that way for several more hours. Lord knew he needed it.

She rifled through her planner; if she was going to be staying with him over the weekend she needed to be certain that she wasn't going to forget anything. Her index finger tapped the small square on the page. She originally had a few things planned for the day, but all of them were optional except for one. She had a bill payment due by noon. She pulled a face and bit her bottom lip as she considered her options.

She glanced over her shoulder in the direction of the bedroom. It wouldn't take long for her to get to the bank and she might even make it back before H woke up. She pushed her plate forward and stood, making a beeline for her bag. Just as she was about to grab it and head for the door, her eyes fell on the morning paper lying on the coffee table.

She cursed under her breath. She had completely forgotten that U of M had a big home game at 1 o'clock; traffic would be hell. The trip would take at least two hours and there was no way she was going to leave H alone for that long. She only had one other option.

----------

Calleigh heard the knock on the front door and hurried to answer. Out of habit, she checked the peep hole, a smile playing at her lips. The deadbolt clicked as she turned the knob and opened the door. "Hi, Dad. Thanks for coming." She stepped aside, allowing Duke to enter. "It's a huge help."

Duke followed her into the living room and took in his surroundings. "Anything for you, Calleigh. You know that. But--"

"But what?"

"Should I be concerned that you're at your boss's house at nine in the morning? _And_ you're in your pajamas?"

Calleigh's cheeks flushed deeply. "It's…not like that. He's…sleeping."

Duke's eyebrows rose, involuntarily. "Sleeping?! Sweetheart, what on earth is--"

"Shh. Keep your voice down, Dad." Calleigh flapped a hand in his direction, indicating the urgency of her request.

"Sorry," Duke whispered. "You don't have to explain anything if you don't want to. You're a grown woman and you can make your own decisions."

"It really is nothing like that." She wondered why she felt embarrassed discussing H with her father. "Horatio has the flu and Alexx asked me to keep an eye on him until he's out of the woods, that's all. Now…can we get back to the original subject?" Calleigh thought she saw her father smirk and responded by folding her arms in front of her and clearing her throat, indicating her displeasure.

Duke raised his hands in surrender. His years as a lawyer had taught him that things rarely were as they seemed, and he was certain that this situation was no different. However, he had also learned to recognize when it was time to back down. This was one of those times. "Sorry. Of course."

Her expression softened and she allowed her arms to fall to her sides. "Thank-you." She tore the check from the book, handing it to him. "Now, you know where you're going, right?"

Duke paused for a moment, pushing aside the lingering questions about his daughter and Horatio. He vaguely remembered what she had told him on the phone earlier that morning. "Yeah," he said with a slow nod, "I think so."

Calleigh's eyes narrowed while she studied her father's face and noted the hesitation in his voice. "Great Florida Bank. Corner of Biscayne and Flagler." Her instructions came rather slowly in an effort to let Duke process them all. "Second floor, ask for Charlene, she's expecting you. The only thing is…" She winced slightly as she continued, not wanting to seem demanding when her father was already doing her a favor, "it has to be there before noon." Before Duke could even take a breath to respond, she continued, "I know it's game day, and I know there's going to be a lot of traffic, but if you leave now--"

Duke put up a hand to stop her and his slightly rotund form shook as he chuckled quietly. "Calleigh, I think I can manage it. After all, you've given me a three hour window."

"I know, but…" Her voice trailed off for a moment.

"But what?"

"No detours, okay, Dad?"

"Detours? I'm not sure I understand." All Calleigh had to do to clarify was raise one eyebrow. "Ah, no booze. I get it. But you don't have to worry about me, Lambchop. I haven't had a drop in six weeks."

Calleigh's smile returned. "Good for you." She knew how much her father yearned for her approval, and in this case he deserved it. If he was telling the truth. She gave his arm a squeeze. "Can I walk you to the door?"

"Trying to get rid of your old man already?"

"You know that's not it. I really need to check on Horatio, he was up all night."

Duke pulled the corner of his mouth in. Based on her tired eyes, he guessed that Horatio hadn't been the only one who hadn't slept. "Have I ever told you you're far too beautiful to be working the hours that you do?"

Calleigh pulled open the front door and stepped aside. "Yeah, but you were drunk at the time."

Duke stepped through the door and turned to face her. "Maybe, but I'm sober now."

"Well, you're my dad, you're supposed to say things like that. It's your job. And besides, this isn't work. Now go." She began pushing the door shut.

"But I'm serious. You really--"

"_Bye, _Dad." She sighed and closed the door. She didn't mind compliments about her skills with a gun or in the lab; those she knew she deserved. But it was the compliments about her appearance that made her slightly uncomfortable.

Shaking the thoughts from her mind, she locked the deadbolt and headed straight for H's bedroom. She was happy to find him asleep and seemingly peacefully so. After the night he'd had, there was nothing he needed more.


	8. In the Eye of the Beholder

-1**IN THE EYE OF THE BEHOLDER**

Catching her reflection out of the corner of her eye, Calleigh glanced at the mirror. _So much for beautiful, _she thought to herself, quite unimpressed with what she saw. She shook her head and yanked the rubber band from her wrist in exasperation. The only improvement she could make to her appearance right now was to do something her hair, and the only thing she could manage with that was to pull it up into a ponytail. Once her work was done she dropped her arms to her sides with a sigh.

"He's right, you know."

The voice came from behind her and Calleigh's eyes darted to the H's reflection in the left corner of the mirror. His eyes were still closed and he appeared to still be asleep. Had she imagined his voice? She blinked twice and returned her attention to her own reflection, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind her ear.

"You _are_ beautiful."

Though the words were mumbled, there was no mistaking the gravelly voice. H's eyes fluttered open. Calleigh hoped his eyes hadn't focused enough yet to see the flush in her cheeks. "Well, it's a good thing you're feverish," she said to his reflection. "Otherwise I might actually think you were serious." As she checked herself in the mirror one final time she missed the faint grin that crept across H's lips.

Pivoting on her heels she moved over to the bed and sat beside him. "How are you feeling?"

"A bit groggy. Headache's gone, though." H moved his hand toward his hair, slowing as his fingers pressed through the thick strands. A hint of a frown crossed his face.

"What is it?" Calleigh asked, wondering about the sudden change.

"I must have been running quite a fever last night," he rumbled distractedly. He twirled his finger around a lock of hair the same way Calleigh had the night before. "I had the most…vivid dream."

"Oh?" Calleigh stood and watched H silently for a second or two, a small smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth as she watched H continue to absentmindedly toy with the strand of his bright red hair, apparently lost in thought.

H smiled inwardly but prevented the smile from reaching the surface. What Calleigh didn't realize was that the simple, subtle twitch in her cheek verified H's suspicions. It hadn't been a dream at all.

H blinked several times. "Anyway…" His eyes twinkled as he smiled. Feeling rather satisfied with himself, he pushed up onto his elbows. "Uh oh," he muttered.

"What's wrong?"

"Remember that large pitcher of water you forced me to drink last night?"

"Yeah," she replied, slightly confused. "What about it?"

H cleared his throat in embarrassment. "How quickly do you think you can get me to the bathroom door?" Though his fever had dropped significantly, his strength had not yet returned and he doubted he would be able to move very quickly.

Calleigh pursed her lips to suppress a giggle and squatted beside him. She draped his left arm around her neck and helped him to his feet and over to the door.

"You sure you can--" Calleigh stopped herself before getting any further, remembering their conversation from two nights before.

H gave her a cheeky grin and took the doorknob from her hand. "Quite." He nodded in appreciation and thanked her before closing the door behind him.

----------------

H was clean, clean-shaven and wrapped in a dark blue bathrobe when he emerged from the bathroom a while later. He couldn't help but notice the stern look he seemed to be getting. "What?"

Calleigh stood there, hands on hips, disapproval in her eyes, chin jutted out. In essence, the perfect picture of an irritated southern woman. "A _shower_?"

H blushed. "I didn't think you would have let me if I had asked."

"And you would have been right. So not only did you lie to me, but you tricked me into helping you?"

His smile instantly faded; he hadn't thought of it as lying, exactly. H tilted his head deeply. "I'm sorry, Cal. I never…I never should have lied to you." Giving her the puppy dog expression he had down to an art, he fixed his big, blue eyes on her. "Will you forgive me?" he asked sincerely.

Before Calleigh had a chance to respond, things started spinning. The shower had left him feeling light-headed and he teetered momentarily. A strong hand gripped his arm. "Horatio Caine, you are incorrigible." Though he couldn't see it, he definitely heard the smile in her voice.

Calleigh helped him over to the bed, and H eased himself down onto the mattress. By now the world had stopped moving and the only thing making him light-headed was the faint aroma of Calleigh's perfume.

It was strange having someone else in the house. The last time someone had stayed overnight with him had been six months prior when Yelina had asked if Ray Jr. could spend a Friday night with him so she could work late.

Having his nephew in the house was one thing. Having Calleigh Duquesne around was something entirely different.

Calleigh's deeply southern voice interrupted his stream of consciousness. "I set your pill out for you, and there's a glass of water, too."

He was suddenly very aware of the fact that he was wearing _only _a bathrobe. As subtly as he could, which, in his state, wasn't subtle at all, he pulled the robe closed and brought his knees together. "Thank-you."

The steam from the shower was beginning to take its toll on his sinuses. It had broken up the congestion, but now his nose was starting to run. He sniffed and wiggled his nose.

Calleigh found the view rather adorable. "Need a tissue?" she asked, offering him the Kleenex box from the dresser. He gave her an appreciative nod. "Anything else I can do for you?"

"You've already done," he paused to wipe his nose, "more than enough. Don't let me keep you."

"If I didn't know better I'd think you were trying to kick me out."

"For the moment I am."

"The moment?"

Calleigh watched the color rise in his cheeks. "It would be nice to get dressed at some point…"

"Am I in your way?" she teased.

"No, but you are in my room."

"And that's a problem?"

H's eyebrows shot sky high. "Uhm…well I--"

Calleigh couldn't help but laugh. "I'm only teasing." She ducked out into the hallway and began pulling the door closed behind her. "I'll be in the kitchen. Holler if you need me."

H sat on his bed in stunned silence for several minutes. Had she been flirting with him or was his mind playing tricks on him? Of all the times to not be able to think clearly, this was perhaps the worst.

Eventually he stood and went to his dresser, picking out clean underwear and socks. When he stood in front of his closet, his attention was instinctively drawn to the suits hanging to one side. It felt wrong not to be wearing one of them. It felt wrong not to be in the lab. He was already going stir crazy being stuck in the house, and it hadn't even been forty-eight hours yet.

He shuddered as a cold chill rippled up his spine. H slid into a pair of old pajama pants and a long-sleeved New York Yankees shirt and staggered back to the warmth of his bed.

He landed on the mattress with a thump and quickly pulled the covers up to his chest. The urge to cough eventually overwhelmed him and after he'd coughed up what felt like a lung and a kidney, he leaned back into the headboard and massaged his aching chest.

He had no idea how he could possibly handle three more days of this.


	9. Turning Up the Heat

-1**TURNING UP THE HEAT**

The gentle pulsating rhythm of Calleigh's phone vibrated at her hip. After a quick glance in H's direction confirmed that he was still sleeping, she silently tiptoed out into the hallway and pulled the door closed behind her.

"Hello?" she whispered once she was out of earshot.

"Calleigh, honey, it's me. How's our patient?"

"Much better, thanks to you, Alexx. He's sleeping right now."

"That's good to hear. Let him sleep as long as possible. When he does wake, there's something I want you to do." Calleigh wasn't positive, but she though she heard a hint of a smile in Alexx's voice.

"Okay," she responded, hesitantly. "What?"

"Well, he's been in bed for nearly seventy-two hours, right? He's probably stiff as a board, not to mention sore. Plus, if he hasn't been moving much, his circulation isn't what it should be. Is there any baby oil in the house?"

"What?!" Calleigh nearly shouted and had to step farther down the hallway to make certain she didn't wake H up.

"Baby oil. You know, the clear--"

"I heard what you said, Alexx, but why on earth would I need baby oil?"

"Because you're going to give him a back rub."

There was a long, _long_ silence.

"A back rub." It wasn't even a question. Calleigh merely said the words to make sure she wasn't imagining things or dreaming. "You want me…to give Horatio…a backrub. Are you out of your mind? I can't do that!"

"Oh, come on, honey. It's not that big a deal. It's not like I'm asking you to give him a full _body _massage. It's just his back." Alexx could almost hear Calleigh blushing on the other end. "Besides, something tells me you might enjoy it."

"Alexx, I swear to God…"

"Sweetheart, trust me on this, okay? Have I ever let you down before?"

"No, but you've certainly set me up before."

Alexx chuckled mischievously. "It doesn't need to last more than fifteen minutes or so. Just long enough to get his circulation and immune system going again."

Calleigh conceded with a deep sigh. "If you say so." They spoke for another few minutes and finally said their goodbyes.

Halfway down the hallway Calleigh froze. "Wait. Baby oil?"

There was no way she was going to ask H if he had any in the house. Telling him that Alexx wanted her to give him a backrub was going to be embarrassing enough. Asking for baby oil was out of the question.

It felt awkward to be searching through his closets and cabinets; it wasn't her house, after all. She was only a guest. She avoided closets in more personal areas of the house, but found no baby oil. Instead she found clean towels and sheets, light bulbs, shoe polish, bundles of old forensic journals, a couple empty shoe boxes, some old crayon drawings from Ray Jr., photo albums, college yearbooks, an old bottle of gun blue and even a small sewing kit. Finally, in the back corner of one of the hall closets, she found it, though the label was so dated that she'd almost mistaken it for something else.

Next came the difficult part, persuading H to submit to a backrub and convincing him that it wasn't her idea. In her mind she went over the different ways to approach him about it, trying to find the least awkward, but the conclusion she came to was that there was going to be no easy way.

When H finally awoke, he found Calleigh sitting in the chair next to the bed, watching him. It was an image he was rather fond of, and, he had to admit, it was one he was beginning to believe he could get used to.

He tiredly smiled in her direction. "How long have I been out?"

"You make it sound as if you'd been in a coma."

"I _feel_ like I've been in a coma. I haven't slept that hard since…" he paused, trying to remember. "Well, it's been a while."

Calleigh checked her wristwatch. "It's been a good three and a half hours. How are you feeling?"

"Ask me that once I've actually sat up." He stretched, yawned slowly pushed himself up into a seated position. He was pleasantly surprised when he wasn't overwhelmed with the urge to cough up another organ. "So, what nefarious deeds have you been up to while I've been asleep?"

"Nefarious?!" she scoffed. "I beg your pardon! I've been reading if you must know."

"Mmm. Sounds scandalous." Noting the book in her lap he nodded toward it. "Anything good?"

"Just some light reading." Tucking her finger in between the pages to keep her place, she closed the cover and lifted it to read the title on the jacket. "_Modern Exterior Ballistics: The Launch and Flight Dynamics of Symmetric Projectiles_."

"Light reading. Of course." The sarcasm dripped from his voice.

"Well, it was either that or read _Terminal Ballistics: A Text and Atlas of Gunshot Wounds _for the fifth time."

H lifted an eyebrow. "Have you ever considered reading something for fun?"

"This _is _for fun," she beamed. With the mood as light as it was, she realized now was a good time to break the news. "Oh, by the way, I spoke with Alexx a while ago."

"Now _that _sounds suspicious. What evil acts has the good doctor instructed you to commit today?" He knew he was grinning like an idiot and he didn't mind. He was feeling much better after having slept for so long and he was enjoying himself; there weren't many people he could tease the same way he could tease Calleigh. And there was certainly no one who dared tease back the way she did.

Calleigh looked over toward his nightstand and he followed her gaze. It was the first time he had noticed the bottle sitting there.

The smile quickly faded. "Baby oil? What--why--"

Calleigh closed her book and set it on the floor beside the chair. "_Alexx_," she paused to emphasize that it was someone else's name and not her own, "insisted that I give you a backrub. _And--_" she held up a hand to cut him off when he tried to interrupt. "She said that if you argue there's another prescription waiting for you at Walgreens. All I have to do is make the call."

H swallowed nervously. He was cornered, and he knew it. "A…backrub, huh?" Slowly he exhaled. "For how long?"

"Well, I can tell you this much, the more you complain the longer it will last."

H narrowed his eyes, attempting to glare at her, but the corner of his mouth twitched, revealing the fact that he was hiding a smile. "Fine."

Calleigh rose from her chair. "Good, now take your shirt off." H had to bite his tongue not to respond to that, a fact that was not lost on her. She turned up the thermostat in the room several degrees; she wanted him to be as warm as possible, especially with his fever.

There was no hiding the fact that he was nervous as he pulled off his long sleeved t-shirt. It wasn't every day that he had to go shirtless in front of a colleague, much less a colleague he was in love with. "Where do you want me?"

If Calleigh had a nickel for every time she had imagined H asking her that, she would have been a rich woman. Her mind wandered just long enough for H to wonder if she had heard him. "Cal?"

"Huh? Oh, sorry." She hoped she wasn't blushing too badly. "Why don't you just scoot over a little so I can sit behind you?"

H did as he was told and she slid in behind him on the bed, sitting Indian style. "Just relax, okay?"

There was a nervous chuckle. "Easier said than done, ma'am."

Calleigh joined in his laughter. "I know, and what did I say about calling me ma'am?"

"Sorry, _Cal._ So, did Alexx…did Alexx say what the purpose of this backrub was?"

"Other than to embarrass you, you mean?" He heard her pop open the cap on the bottle. He laughed quietly again, noting that it was easing some of his tension.

"She said it would help your circulation and your immune system and that it might help break up some of the congestion in your chest. Now, this might be a little cold," she said, putting her oil-coated palms flat on his hot skin. He hissed in, slightly taken by surprise at the contrast in sensations.

H had to admit it; Calleigh's hands felt wonderful on his back. He slowly dropped his head until his chin was nearly on his chest and relaxed back into her fingers. A stillness came over him as Calleigh kneaded his tired muscles. Occasionally there was a quiet word or two, a laugh here and there, but above all else there was a sense of comfort. No longer was he anxious or tense, and it wasn't just because of the absence of knots in his muscles. There was something almost mysterious about the way in which she could put him at ease. What had begun as an awkward situation had developed into something quite wonderful.


	10. Speed Bump

-1**AVALANCHE**

"It's getting late."

H looked over at the clock on the living room wall and frowned, a crease forming between his brows. "It's not even seven thirty yet."

"Well, I mean, I should start getting my things together." Calleigh moved to stand. "Lord knows I've made a mess while I've been here."

"Mess? What mess?" H watched, feeling rather helpless as she stood. "Wait, you're…leaving?"

"I mean--I wasn't planning on staying, no. Is that a problem?"

"No, but, I guess I had just…sort of assumed you would be staying. But, if you need to go--"

"No, I don't _need _to go, but…I don't want to overstay my welcome."

"I don't think that's possible. Besides, it's been nice having you here." Realizing how what he had said could have been interpreted, he quickly added, "It's allowed me to stay in bed and rest."

"You mean I've _forced _you to stay in bed and rest."

"Yeah, well that, too." He wished he had had the nerve to admit to her that it was nice having her there, regardless of the situation.

"Okay, I guess I can stay for one more night, but you have to promise that you'll tell me if you want me to leave."

"That day will never come." H locked eyes with her long enough to get his point across. "So, should we put in a movie?"

--------------

During a crucial moment in the movie, H realized that he hadn't been paying attention. Something else had been on his mind. "I have a confession to make," he said, turning to look at her. "I did have a bit of an ulterior motive in asking you to stay. There's something I'd like to…get your help with."

Calleigh pulled her attention away from the television and paused the film. She noted the curious expression on his face. "What's that?"

H set down his coffee cup on the coaster and stood. "I'll be back."

Calleigh furrowed her brow and watched him walk toward the bedroom. Moments later she heard a series loud thumps followed by a muffled cry. Concerned, she leapt to her feet and hurried after him.

She found H leaning bracing himself on the wall beside the open closet door and rubbing the top of his head. There was a small pile of boxes and papers around his feet. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," he grumbled.

"Are you sure? It sounded like there was an avalanche."

"I just got a little light-headed and knocked a few things off the top shelf."

"Light-headed? What on earth were you doing?"

H glanced away, hiding his guilt-ridden eyes. "Trying to get something down off that shelf."

"You need to sit down, Horatio, I'll get it for you. Just tell me what I'm looking for."

He was about to protest, but what was the point? While he was feeling better, he still didn't have the strength to endure an argument with Calleigh. "It's a manila envelope, top shelf, labeled Lisa Marie Valdez, October 21, 2002."

The name sparked something in Cal's memory, but she couldn't make sense of it. "Ok, now go sit down," she pointed to the door.

H massaged the growing lump on his head and nodded. "Yes, ma'am," he muttered, shuffling out the door.

She dragged a chair over in front of the closet and stepped up on it. She saw the folder he described back in the corner. There was a box sitting on top of the envelope, wedging it in place. It was just an ordinary brown box and at first she didn't notice what it was. When she lifted it her eyes caught sight of something written on the box. Slowly, she pulled both box and envelope from the shelf.

Calleigh set the folder aside and stared down at the stiff cardboard box and the all-too-familiar case number written upon it in all-too-familiar handwriting.

-----------------

There was a dull thud as the envelope hit the seat of the sofa next to H. He glanced over at the envelope, noting the force with which it had been flung nearly _at_ him.

He looked up to find Calleigh standing to one side, one hand planted firmly on her hip, the other one holding..._Oh. Shit._

"You wanna tell me what this is doing in your closet?" She held the box out toward him, waving it slightly as she spoke. "Or should I just go ahead and guess?"

H rose to his feet and took the box from her. "Cal..."

"No, Horatio, don't try and 'Cal' me. I know that case number. I _wrote_ the damn case number on the box."

H flicked his eyes down to the box, noting that the flaps were already undone as if the it had already been opened. He knew that she'd seen what was inside. Slowly, he pulled the lid open. Inside, still strapped to its cardboard backing, was a familiar gun.

"So?" She paused, "Are you going to tell me why the hellyou had Tim's gun stuffed in the back of your closet?"

"Because..." Horatio's shoulder's slumped and he sighed. "Because it's Speed's."

Now that Calleigh was no longer holding the cardboard box she had moved her right hand to rest on her hip, mirroring her left. H knew that pose well; she only assumed it when she was angry.

"Because I won't run the risk of anyone dragging his name through the mud." He paused, looking for the right words which seemed so hard to find. "You tested his gun..."

"…and my report said that Tim's weapon misfired," she finished, still, as of yet, unsatisfied with his explanation.

"Yes, but what if someone else were to test it in the future? They wouldn't be so...fair."

"Like who? Who would have any reason to test it?"

"There's always a chance that IAB would want to."

"IAB? For what purpose? It's a closed case, Horatio. It's over."

"Not for Stetler, isn't not. He won't let it go."

"I don't think it's Stetler who can't let go."

H's eyes turned icy blue, anger barely concealed in his voice. "Let's not beat around the bush_. _If you have something to say, just come out and say it."

"I think you know what I'm saying." Their eyes locked, as if daring the other to blink first. "Horatio, I get what you were trying to do, but this is _evidence. _No matter how much you, or any of us for that matter, may want to protect his memory we can't go above the law. We _are _the law. If we don't follow our own rules then how can we ask anyone else to?"

"The evidence is everything, Cal. You know that I would never do anything to jeopardize it, and I wasn't breaking any rules. This isn't evidence in an ongoing case; the gun was never used in connection with any conviction. The only reason anyone would have to open this box again would be to try to get at me or my team, and I'm not willing to let that happen."

"You don't always have to play the guardian angel, Horatio. People have come after the team before, and if we keep doing our jobs properly then I'm damn certain they'll come after us again. But sometimes you've just gotta let us fend for ourselves, let us take the hit and work out a way to overcome them. How can we learn from our mistakes if you won't let us _make_ them?"

A shadow passed over H's face. "And how is Speed meant to learn from _my_ mistake? It's a bit late for that."

"But that's just it. It wasn't _your_ mistake. You can't take responsibility for what happened."

"Yes, I can. I was too easy on him. I didn't hold him to the same standards as the rest of the team. I should have gotten on his case and stayed on his case until he cleaned that damn gun."

"Horatio, listen to yourself."

"What?"

"You're making this about you! You're blaming yourself for Tim's death. Tim died because _he_ didn't clean his gun. It wasn't your fault."

"But it--"

"No, Horatio. It wasn't your fault, no matter how you look at it. You have to start realizing that. Tim was a good CSI and a good friend, but he wasn'tgood about keeping his gun clean. After what happened on dispo day, we all thought he'd learned his lesson, but obviously we were wrong. Tim may not be able to learn from his mistake, but we can."

H sighed and slumped down onto the couch. He was too exhausted to keep fighting. Calleigh's words echoed in his ears. Could she be right? Pressing his thumbs to his temples, he vainly tried to massage away the tension that had built up.

The frown dropped from Calleigh's face and her expression softened considerably. "Are you okay?"

"I'm just…" He gave up trying to find the right words. "I don't know."

The cushion beside him shifted as Calleigh lowered herself onto the couch and put a hand on his back. "You miss him, don't you?" she quietly asked.

"Yes," he whispered.

"Me, too."

The droop of his shoulders clearly indicated that their argument was still weighing heavily on him. "Really?"

"Of course I do. Not a day goes by that I don't think about him. Sometimes," Calleigh paused and looked away, and Horatio could see she was blinking away tears. "Sometimes I even dream about him."

H simply nodded. Though he too had dreams about Speed, he had never admitted it to anyone. He let his hands fall from his head and hang just over the ends of his knees. "It's good to know I'm not the only one."

"You're definitely not the only one, and you're not alone either. We're here for you." Calleigh reached for his hand and laced her fingers through his. "_I'm…_here for you."

H looked down at their hands, lost in thought for just a moment, then lifted his head to meet her gaze. "I know."


	11. House Arrest

-1**HOUSE ARREST**

"You do realize that I a have a spare bed, right?" H said when Calleigh emerged from the bathroom in the t-shirt and shorts she used for sleeping.

"Yeah, but I don't want to have to change the sheets for just one night. The couch is fine."

"You wouldn't have to change the sheets. I'd take care of it. I really don't mind, Cal. I know how uncomfortable that couch is."

Calleigh smiled. "You're sweet, but I'll be already. I managed to sleep just fine on Thursday night."

H frowned and turned his head to cough. "You slept here Thursday night?" He hadn't realized.

"Mhm." Seeing his puzzled expression, she laughed. "It's okay. I wouldn't have expected you to know. You were _sound _asleep that night."

"I suppose I was," he said, scratching the back of his head. "Well, is there anything I can get for you?"

"I thought _I_ was the one who was supposed to be taking care of _you_."

"Yeah, well…" His cheeks flushed. The file folder still lay open on the coffee table, it's contents sprawled everywhere. "Are you finished with that?" he asked, nodding toward the scattered pages.

Calleigh lowered herself down onto the couch and centered herself squarely in front of the coffee table. "I think I'm gonna keep looking through it for a while. At least until I get sleepy."

"In that case, I think I'll join you," he said shifting toward her on the couch.

"No you don't, mister." Calleigh wagged a slender finger in his face. "You march yourself down that hallway and get in bed. It's nearly midnight."

"And you want me safe in bed before I turn back into a pumpkin, is that it?"

She hated it when she was trying to be serious he insisted upon being charming, or at least cute. It made it very difficult for her to be stern. "Something like that." She gently pushed at his shoulder. "Now go."

H sighed heavily and stood. "Okay, I'll go. But only because I'm sick and don't have the strength to fight back." He reached a hand around and massaged an aching muscle in his back. "Are you sure you don't need anything?"

"I'm sure. Now stop stalling." She playfully shooed him away with her hand and tried in vain not to smile.

"Goodnight." H paused before disappearing down the hallway and stared at her longer than he probably should have.

-----------------------

H lay in bed, hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling, a tempest of emotions swirling in his mind. The clock on his nightstand continued to remind him that he couldn't sleep. 1 am passed, then 2.

H wondered if Calleigh was still awake, and if she was, whether she was still studying that file. He wondered if she had any idea how much trust he was putting in her by showing it to her. No one else knew about the promise he had made to Jeffrey Douglas three years before to haunt him annually on the date that would have been his daughter's birthday until H could bring him to justice. But H had made little progress on the case, which is why he had asked Calleigh for her help. Hopefully together they would finally be able to put a killer behind bars.

H pushed himself up into a sitting position and stared at the door. Maybe if he got a drink of water…

He stepped out into the hallway and instantly noticed the lights were still on in the living room. Was she still awake? He peered around the corner and saw Calleigh curled up in the corner of the couch, file folder open in her lap, asleep. He smiled, crookedly. He had no problem admitting that she was downright cute like that. He tiptoed over to the couch and slowly pulled the folder from beneath her fingers, watching her closely while hoping that he wouldn't wake her. She didn't flinch.

He closed the file, set it on the coffee table and reached for the blanket on the back of the couch. Bending over, he placed the blanket over her sleeping form, a smile on his face the entire time. He stood there watching her sleep for some time, wondering why he couldn't get rid of that stupid grin. Finally, he switched off the lamp beside the couch and retreated to his bedroom, completely having forgotten about that drink of water.

--------------------

Calleigh's duffel bag sat packed on the hardwood floor, just one more reminder that she would be leaving soon. H stared at it, almost willing it to unpack itself. He wasn't ready for her to leave. It was only Sunday morning and he wasn't allowed to return to work until Tuesday, which meant at least thirty six more hours of being stuck at home alone.

"Do you want me to make you some lunch before I head out?" Calleigh asked, walking up behind him.

He wanted to say yes, wanted any excuse to have her company for a little while longer, but she had done so much for him already, and he was afraid to ask for more. "Thank-you, but I'll be fine."

"Are you sure? It's no problem." He wasn't the only one looking for an excuse for her to stay. "Look, I'll just make you a sandw--" She took two steps toward the kitchen but stopped when she felt a hand on her arm.

"Cal, really, you've done enough. Take what's left of today and concentrate on yourself. And yes," he added when he saw her about to interject, "I'm sure."

"Okay," she smiled. "If you're sure. I guess I'll be on my way then." She started to lean down and pick up the straps to the duffel bag, but H's hand was still on her arm, keeping her from moving away.

When she straightened up he looked at her with those sad, blue eyes, wishing he knew how to adequately thank her for everything she had done for him and been for him over the past several days. But he knew it was impossible. H put his other hand on her other arm and stepped closer. "Thank-you, Cal." He lowered his head to kiss her cheek but stopped inches away. Calleigh felt his breath on her cheek when he sighed and pulled away.

She looked at him questioningly. "What's wrong?"

H let his hands fall to his sides. "I don't want to get you sick."

"Horatio, if I haven't gotten sick from you by now, I don't think I'm going to. But still, can I get a rain check on that?"

H blushed and laughed quietly. "Absolutely. Keep me posted on things at the lab on Monday, will you?"

Calleigh narrowed her eyes and studied him. "Yeah, I can do that. Besides, I have a feeling that if I don't, my phone will be ringing off the hook with calls from a certain homebound Lieutenant."

The color in his cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink. "You know me too well."

"_Too _well? Nah, not possible." Calleigh bent down and picked up her duffel bag. "I'll talk to you tomorrow. Make sure you get plenty of sleep today and tomorrow. When you do finally come back to the lab we want you at full strength, okay?"

H nodded. "Will do." H lead the way down the entryway to the front door and opened it for her. Calleigh winked at him and stepped through. "Bye, Cal."

She waved over her shoulder without turning back, leaving H standing there in the doorway already fighting a growing sense of loneliness.


	12. The Sound of Silence

-1**THE SOUND OF SILENCE**

It was hours after her shift had ended that Calleigh silently ascended the steps leading to H's office. Standing on the landing in front of the thick glass door, she could see that he was not at his desk. Still, she knocked.

H's voice was slightly muffled by the thick door. "Come in."

The door hissed as she pushed it open and stepped inside. Off to the left in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows stood H, hands in his pockets, head slightly bowed. Her footsteps made no sound as she approached him from behind.

"I thought you would have left by now," he said without turning.

"I could say the same for you," she replied, stepping up beside him. "How'd you know it was me?"

"I saw your reflection in the glass," he said, gently rapping on the window with the knuckle of his index finger. "Is there something I can do for you?"

Calleigh noted the formality in his tone. He wasn't any more formal than he normally was at the lab, but, when compared to the casual way in which they had spoken to each other over the course of that previous weekend, it made him sound a bit…distant. "You can be honest with me."

She now had his full attention. He turned ninety degrees to his left and faced her, full on. "I always try to be honest with you, Cal. What's going on?"

"Why are you still here, why aren't you at home? We closed our case hours ago. And, please, don't give me an excuse about being backed up on paperwork from last week. I finished _all _of it just so you wouldn't be behind when you got back. Besides, you've been doing this every night since you returned to work."

"Doing what?"

"Not going home."

"So you've been spying on me?" Had there not been the slightest hint of a grin on his face, Calleigh would have thought he was serious.

"Not spying. Just checking up on you. Just because you're back at work doesn't mean you're completely well. Alexx asked me to keep an eye on you 'til the end of the week, and that's not 'til tomorrow."

H smiled, but it faded as quickly as it had arrived. "You want the truth?"

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't."

"Truth is…" He sighed heavily and stared back out the window. "Truth is, I had never noticed just how quiet the apartment was until this week. I suppose after sharing the place with someone for a few days," he paused just long enough to smile at her, "you get accustomed to the constant background noise, but now that you're not there…" H shrugged and turned his face away once more. "Like I said, it's just quiet."

Calleigh placed her hand on his arm. Whether he had meant what he had said as a compliment or not, she was touched by his simple admission. "You'll get used to it soon enough."

When he looked at her again she noticed a deep sadness in his eyes. "But what if I don't want to?"

Calleigh tilted her head to the side, trying to see his face better in the dim light. "What--what do you mean?"

"What…if I don't want to get used to the quiet? What if I don't want to get used to not having you there?"

"I suppose I could always come nurse you back to health the next time you get sick."

"You could, but that might be a while. I don't tend to get sick very often."

"No, you don't, do you?" she said, mostly to herself. "Well then I guess I could always drop by sometime with a fresh pot of herbal tea to make sure you don't get sick again."

H shuddered. "You're welcome anytime, but let's take a rain check on the tea. I don't think my stomach has quite recovered from the previous pot." H laughed quietly, earning a playful punch in the arm. He cleared his throat, lowered his eyes and fidgeted with the sunglasses that Calleigh had just noticed were in his hands.

"Speaking of rain checks, there is something I believe I owe you." Slowly, he leaned in and placed the lightest of kisses on her cheek. "Thank-you again, for everything," he whispered.

He was standing so close Calleigh could feel his breath on her cheek. It was the closest they had been since that night when his fever had peaked and she had put him to sleep by talking to him while running her fingers through his hair. The urge to touch him again was too strong to resist. Calleigh brushed her fingertips across his cheek, feeling the late-night stubble that had surfaced, and watched as the lines next to his eyes deepened when he smiled back at her. H didn't flinch at her touch, nor did he pull away. Encouraged by her response he placed another soft kiss at her temple and one more on her forehead.

Calleigh closed her eyes and increased the pressure of her fingertips, which had come to rest at the line just behind his jaw. Her touch urged him on; he placed kiss after kiss across her cheeks and forehead while trying to work up the courage to move to her lips.

Finally, when he thought his heart could pound no harder, he dropped his head just slightly, putting only inches between their lips. He let out a soft, rumbling, "Mmm," that sent shivers down Calleigh's spine. Her eyelids opened and their eye's locked, causing her to smile. It was all the confidence boost he needed.

When he finally kissed her there were no fireworks, no shooting stars; there was no trumpet fanfare. Just the quiet, contented sounds of two people very much in love.

"I'll make you a deal," he whispered in between tender kisses.

"Hm? What's that?"

"I'll go home…if…you'll come with me."

--------------------

_Now you've listened to my story, here's the point I have made:_

_Chicks were born to give you fever, be it Fahrenheit or Centigrade_

_They give you fever - when you kiss them, fever if you live and learn_

_Fever - till you sizzle, what a lovely way to burn._


End file.
